Cry
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Death is hard no matter what the age. As ever, I don't own Criminal Minds.


**Author's Note: Thank you, Michaela, for that invaluable list of prompts that you sent me. They've really helped with the writer's block. I hope everyone likes this story. Please read and review. As ever, I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Cry**

He'd been sitting in this god awful blue room for the past ten hours. Waiting. For the first time in his life, he'd been happy to wait….ecstatic for time to simply creep along. Because she was still here. Still breathing. Well, sort of. Without that tube down her throat, she'd have been gone weeks ago. His mother. His touchstone. The only family he had left. And she was slipping away.

The doctor's had told him a week ago that the end was nigh. A few more days or a few more hours, it was hard to tell. But her body was weakening. Her heart was failing. And David Rossi was losing one of the only people who'd ever seen the real him. He'd fought like hell against it. Brought in the best doctors in the world. But they'd all held to one common consensus. Anna Rossi's eighty-seven year old body was tired. She was tired. And, as she'd told him back when she could still speak, she was ready to see his father again. He just wasn't ready to let her go. But God didn't seem to care about his insecurities. The Almighty was calling his mother home and there was nothing he could do about it except wait.

And he did so…because as long as he was waiting, she remained here with him. The entire team had come over the last few days. On and off…sometimes together, sometimes separately….all of them offering useless but well meant platitudes. All, except one. Jennifer. She'd never offered more than a quietly spoken, "I'm so sorry." She'd, by far, come the most often. Every day, in fact. They'd sit beside each other in silence, barely breathing. Just watching. And waiting. For the inevitable.

She understood. He could see the sorrow etched in her face, not all of it for his mother. No, she'd lived this before. As if his thoughts could conjure her image, he heard the door open to the cool room as she softly slipped inside. Dropping her bag by the door, she made her way silently across the room to assume her usual seat to his left.

"Any change?" she whispered, leaning forward to lightly touch his mother's wrinkled, blue veined hand.

Swallowing the lump of pain and dread that had formed in his throat, he shook his head. "The doctor was here an hour or so ago. He said it wouldn't be much longer. Maybe a few more hours," Dave confided hoarsely.

She nodded because there were no words to offer.

They sat in the deafening silence a few more minutes when he said, rubbing his temple, "I thought this would be easier, you know? We see so much death. Every day. I thought…I thought I'd be ready for this. I thought it would prepare me."

"Nothing can prepare you to watch someone you love die," JJ said sadly. "All you can do is tell yourself that she was ready…at least that's what I did when it was my mother."

"I figured you'd been here before," Dave said tiredly. "You're the only one that's not been here talking about how God needs her more than I do. How it's her time to go and I need to let her pass easily."

"She's your mother, Dave. There isn't anything easy about this," JJ whispered, her eyes never leaving his mother's face. "She knows you're doing the best you can."

"They want me to have the respirator turned off," he murmured, wiping the tear that had escaped his eye.

"All the machines in the world won't matter when her time to go comes. Trust me, I'd know," JJ admitted in a small voice.

"She'd hate all these tubes," Dave shuddered. "I guess as long as I kept her hooked to them, I thought there was still a chance. A small, small chance that she'd rally."

"And now?" JJ questioned softly.

"My mother is going to die, Jennifer. Whether she's attached to these machines or not. Isn't she?" Dave said, his voice breaking.

Reaching out a tentative hand toward him, JJ whispered, "I'm afraid so, Dave."

Clutching her hand like a lifeline, Dave drew a deep shuddery breath into his lungs. "I didn't want to lose her."

"We never want to lose someone we love," JJ counseled, squeezing his hand. "But there comes a point where we ask ourselves, 'Who are we doing this for? Them or ourselves?'"

Nodding because he didn't trust himself to speak, Dave held her hand tightly as he watched his mother's still face. Licking his lips he gathered his courage to do what he knew he must. Finally turning his head to look at JJ, he asked, "You'll stay, won't you?"

"I'll stay," JJ whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"Do me a favor and get her doctor, will you?" he asked thickly.

Squeezing his hand, JJ nodded, rising from the chair.

Still holding on to her hand, JJ stilled when she felt him tug her a step closer to his chair. Watching as he lifted tormented dark eyes to her own, she heard him brokenly say, "Thank-"

Pressing a quick finger to his lips, she shook her head. "Don't. You'd have helped me if you could have." Impulsively bending to press a gentle kiss to his lips, she murmured, "I'll get the doctor."

***

Watching as JJ softly closed the door, Dave turned his eyes back to his mother. Pushing out of his seat, he moved to sit on the edge of his mother's bed and stared down at her. "You always loved her, didn't you, mama? You tried to tell me that she'd be good for me. Once again, I guess you were right." Pausing to listen to the beeps and moans of the various machines, he continued, "I hope this is what you would have wanted. I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this point. I just couldn't bear the thought of letting you go. I was selfish. Like usual, I guess. You oughta be used to that, I guess. I need you to know that I'll try to be better. For you, I'll strive to be the son you always wanted. I can almost hear your voice telling me not to be stupid…that I WAS the son you wanted. But I know I could have been better. We can always be better." Wiping his watering eyes, he whispered, "I love you, Mama. I know you have to go but I still wish we'd had longer. When you get to Heaven, you tell dad that I've not forgotten his lessons, okay?" Standing up quickly and brushing the tears away, he heard the door reopen.

Looking up, Dave saw his mother's doctor and JJ standing in the doorway.

Stepping forward, Dr. Anderson asked gently, "Dave? Are you sure?"

Nodding wordlessly, Dave's eyes found JJ's. "I'm sure. She wouldn't have wanted to live like this. I shouldn't have done it to her this long. Turn it off."

Nodding, the doctor moved to the respirator. Shutting the machine off, the room was suddenly filled with deafening silence as he removed the tubes from his mother's body. Stepping back, he met Dave's eyes. "It won't be long now, Dave. You need to say goodbye."

As the doctor quietly left the room, Dave resumed his seat on the edge of his mother's bed, his hand holding hers. Looking up, he found JJ standing against the door…an uncertain look on her face.

"Please don't go," he whispered, hating the pleading note he heard in his own voice.

"I'm not…I just wasn't sure if I should step out," JJ confessed softly. "I thought you might want to say goodbye in private."

"I already said my goodbyes, JJ. I've been saying them for weeks," he murmured, staring back down at his mother's face. Smiling gently, he whispered, "She looks happier now, doesn't she?"

Moving softly to his side, JJ peered down at the older woman. "Yeah, she does," JJ replied, eyes flashing toward the slowing heart monitor.

Stroking his mother's cheek, Dave leaned over to press one last kiss on her wrinkled forehead. Pressing his lips to her ear, he whispered, "It's okay now, Mama. You can go. I love you."

And moments later, as Dave and JJ watched, Anna Rossi peacefully slipped from one world to the next. And as David Rossi's harsh sobs began, another tiny woman, different, but no less familiar than his mother, wrapped her arms around him.

"It's okay, Dave. You can cry now," JJ murmured against his neck as he rode the first storm of grief.


End file.
